A Touch of Lavender
by Goobzoop
Summary: AU where Spencer Reid runs a little Psychic shop. Aaron Hotchner and his team stop in for readings, and Aaron cannot take his eyes off of the beautiful man with long golden curls and a bizarrely colored outfit. **Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid Slash!**


Was it simply luck that had caused him to turn down that street?  
Aaron Hotchner wouldn't call it luck. Coincidence, maybe. Hotch and his team, slightly off kilter at the moment, stumbled down 4th Ave which was dimly lit by barely functioning street lamps, in an attempt to take back the night. They would not let the Waterside bomber have it. He could take 5 lives, and ruin many more, but when it came down to it, there were some nights that were better resurrected then laid to rest. This was one of them.

Garcia had sung. Loudly, and with zest. Beside her, naturally, her side-kick Morgan, and Kevin, her partner in crime. Rossi didn't know that karaoke could accommodate three people.

Four, actually, because JJ had decided that tonight was the night to let loose to Mambo No. 5. Even Rossi couldn't even help but grin when the group started a _very_ off-tune rendition of Frank Sinatra's New York, New York, nor could he help singing along from his seat at the bar. Not that they had done it justice, but they had very obviously enjoyed it.

After all the booze had gone to their heads, sloshed down their arms, and spilled into their once-steady legs, which were now more noodle than bone, they were determined to walk back to their apartments, cars be dammed. Prentiss and JJ very sneakily called a taxi and were gone before anyone else could bat an eye. That left Garcia, who was draped on Kevin, and Morgan and Rossi. And, of course, the very sober Hotch. Who, for reasons unknown, didn't seem to notice that a designated driver usually drove their passengers back to their houses, not walked them.

But it was a nice night. They could use the walk. It was late fall, and the stores lining the narrow street were all heavily decorated in pumpkins, ghouls, and sticky looking cobb-web. The trees were all sporting a beautiful golden-red hue, and the air felt crisp in a refreshing way that only seemed to come to compliment the finest season.

Behind Hotch came the unmistakeable signature squeal of their resident tech genius.

"Oh my GAAAAWWWDDD." Garcia stumbled on her footing while Kevin grabbed her skillfully, "Guys, LOOK!"

Hotch and the group turned their heads to follow her outstretched finger.  
"Whaffs that?" Morgan slurred.

"What, a psyhic?" Rossi snorted, "What's this nonsense?"

"Yes! A PSYCHIC. Guys. GUYS. We _have_ to." She stamped her feet down, "As a team!"

Kevin shook his head, laughing at his highly intoxicated girlfriend.

Hotch frowned, seeing the neon purple light up sign crackle behind the glass.

"C'mon, you heard the lady." Morgan said in a mock-assertive tone. "Wheels UP."

Garcia and Morgan burst out in a fit of giggles, spouting a "Boss man" and "No you didn't", somewhere in the mix.

"Well, we're not getting out of this. You heard the man." Rossi wiggled his eyebrows at Hotch and sauntered over to the little shop. Hotch followed behind. He heard a muffled "ohhhmyygoodddd" somewhere behind him.  
When he opened the door, a thick lavender fragrance wafted out, causing him to cough. The five of them could barely squeeze into the little space.

"Um, hello?" Garcia called into the back.

A light switched on and a man walked out through a thick doorway of hanging-beads.

Tall. He was very tall. It didn't look like he should be standing in this small room, really. Though his style certainly did scream psychic.  
He was adorned in a brown corduroy vest over top of a deep purple silk dress shirt, wrapped up in a golden bow tie. His pants were a dark navy blue. The colors seemed to clash, but in a strangely harmonic way. A complementary type of chaos. His hair was elegant. All golden brown curls, resting just below his shoulders. It seemed to ebb and flow, sending wisps out in certain spots, and slicked down nicely in others.

Aaron's jaw had dropped. Figuratively, of course. He wasn't drunk, but he seemed to lose all sense of control as soon as he saw the man standing before him.  
Spencer looked the group up and down.

"Well, hello. I've been expecting you lot." He grinned.

"Oh my godddd!" Garcia squealed. "Did you hear that?!" she half-whispered in Morgan's ear.

Reid made a wide gesture, and his wingspan seemed to take up the entire floor. Kevin stepped back subconsciously.

"Welcome. It seem's you've stumbled into my little neck of the woods for the night. My name is Spencer Reid." Spencer grinned, moving his eyes slowly over each person before him and landing on Hotch.

"The world. The world is a tremendously vast place. A mysterious wonderland, a dark playground. Death. Love. Despair. Laughter. Though all the different facets of life, we yearn to make some sense of it all. I gather you all are here for just that."

Spencer quirked an eyebrow. "How much of this sounds familiar to you?"

The air was still between the profilers.

"So, who will it be?" Spencer hummed as he slid graciously into his seat beneath the glowing purple sign.

Kevin pushed Garcia forward and she nearly stumbled on a glowing purple rock on the floor.

"M-me." she gasped.

"Well then take a seat Ms. Garcia."

Garcia's booze-infused eyes went wide instantly. "Hey—!"

Rossi in the back snickered.  
Spencer had the woozy tech analyst take a deep breath before beginning a tarot reading. She animatedly ooh'ed and ahh'ed, let out a series of very shocked gasps, and left the table nearly ready to faint.  
Rossi slipped out the door somewhere in-between.  
Morgan sat begrudgingly at first, but was transfixed by the time Spencer told him he was finished. Morgan had to be pulled op from the seat as questions poured out of him. Garcia dragged him out of the shop to stop his protests. Kevin follow suit shortly after.

Spencer turned his head to Hotch, and pointed a slender finger at hime, wiggling it slyly. "You. Sit."

Hotch backed up, and shoved his hands into his pockets. He was still dressed in a work suit despite everyone else dressing casually.

"No, I'd rather not. Thank you, though."

"Oh, but you will. Take a seat." Spencer eyed him, casting a mischievous smile that made Hotch temporarily waver.

How could he resist those glowing amber eyes anyway?  
He sat.

"Okay, handsome." The psychic purred, "Select three."

The cards flit in a slurry of motion, and landed on the table in an impeccable line.  
Hotch raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed with his skilled hands. He eyed the cards and slid one out from the beginning, middle and end.

"Face up on the table." Spencer instructed.

Hotch flipped up the first card, depicting a robed statuesque man. He was adorned in reds and golds, with a sparrow perched upon his outstretched hand. Littered beneath him were glimmering golden coins with stars emblazoned on them.

"Mmm. Nine of Pentacles. I can understand that." Spencer's eyes rolled down Hotch from head to toe and he felt as if Spencer was profiling _him_.  
Hotch slipped the other two cards down on the table.

On one, a desolate looking silhouette of a man, standing riverside, and surrounded by empty and locked over chalices. The other, a vibrant and crowned woman, sitting top a throne, and draped in rich red silk.

"Mmmhm." Spencer slid his finger over the first coined card, "You're self-reliant. A bit of a loner, perhaps? A leader, without doubt. You show a great deal of restraint. Always in control, always the one to make the first move. I can see it in your eyes, and the way that you hold your mouth so tight." Spencer fluttered his eyes from Hotch's lips to meet Hotch's hard gaze.

"You give too much to remain stoic. Always reining in your impulses, are you not? Letting life take you, day by day, never letting yourself go, never enjoying the moment." A playful grin erupts on Spencer's delicate features.

"Well, I—"

"No, it's okay. It's you. It's okay to be you." Spencer shushed him.

"let's see, mm, a loss. I'm so sorry."

Spencer paused. Lines of worry creased between his eyes. He looked up to see Hotch's own somber eyes, a twinge of grief showing itself reluctantly.  
"Five of Cups. I won't go any father with this one. I think we can both understand what this means for you. Your family. Your life. Everything."  
Spencer leaned in closer. Hotch could see his 5'oclock shadow barley coming through. He wondered if Spencer's chin felt scratchy or smooth.

"Are you healing?"

Hotch nodded slowly. It'd been nearly two years since Haley's... death. It had become a dull ache, but an ache nonetheless.

"It's getting better." Hotch sighed, "I'm healing. It'll always be a part of me, but I'm okay."

Spencer's lips peaked up in a reassuring smile. "Well, that aligns perfectly with The Empress. Although I'm surprised to see The Empress paired with your Nine of Pentacles. An interesting combination that I didn't expect from such a... stoic man like yourself."

Spencer grinned.

Did Aaron just imagine that wink?

"Nurturing, caring, tender. I see that you have another side beyond your tough exterior. And a child, perhaps? Or a child-like spirit. Maybe even both. I'm sure he'd adore a playful father."

Aaron knotted his eyebrows. "Yes, he..."

"But Theres also the senses. The Empress is a versatile woman. There's much to be desired in the way of earthly... pleasure. Giving, receiving."

Hotch bit his lip.

"Vibrancy, health, a focus on the body..."

Spencer traces his finger along the outlines of the card. "You can be generous in how you govern your senses. Joy, pleasure, and beauty. Hmm. You desire beautiful things."

Hotch's breath hitched in his throat. He couldn't think of what to say.  
So he just stared back, waiting.  
Spencer's hand darted forward and snaked around Hotch's.

"So calloused. Will you let me read your palm, Mr. Hotch?"

"Aaron, please. And yes."

Both of Spencer's slender hands wrapped around Hotch's. "Ah, a lefty."

Spencer picked up Hotch's other hand and began to run his thumbs from the inner most part of the palm out to the ends of his fingertips. Spencer's hair fell in front of his face and Hotch had to restrain himself from reaching over and tucking it behind his ear.

"Mmh. Aaron."

Aaron loved the way his named vibrated his Spencer's chest and rolled off his tongue.

"It looks like your friends have left you."

Aaron frowned. "What?"

Spencer gave a small laugh. "That's not a reading; they've literally left."

Aaron glanced around the small, dimly lit room. "Oh. So they did."

"Looks like it's just you and me then." Spencer winked.

Hotch blushed. He liked the feel of Spencer's hands caressing his. They were warm and soothing.

"Looks like it."

Spencer's fingers trailed up Hotch's wrist, and he ran his thumb along the underside of his forearm.  
Hotch cleated his throat softly. He could feel the heat start to rise up his neck, reddening his ears and his cheeks. What was this beautiful man up to?

Hotch wondered if all his palm readings went like this.

"Do all of your palm readings go like this?" Hotch said with a twinge of breathlessness, his eyes narrowed slightly.

He suspected that they did not.

"No, they do not." Spencer said simply.

Aaron could see Spencer reading his subtle expressions as he traced his finger up along his forearm, and could see the pleasure on Spencer's face when they betrayed his approval.

"You're strong." Spencer stated. His eyes trailed along with his fingers.  
"Police officer?" he asked, and with a grin, "Firefighter?"

"FBI"

Aaron found the courage to grab Spencer's other hand in the same fashion, a soft caressing touch, so that both their hands were intertwined.

Spencer quirked an eyebrow, "Agent, then?"

He noted the little tipping of a smile from Aaron, and the hint of a dimple forming.

"Yes. What do they call you? Medium, clairvoyant?"

Spencer leaned forward across the small table enough to feel the heat coming from Aaron's body.

"Doctor." he whispered.

Aaron grinned, his dimple poking in now, which gave Spencer a slight chill down his back. Spencer felt the Agent move close enough so their lips were just barely touching.

"Well, how about that."

Spencer smiled, a confident, lusty smile, and pressed his wet lips against Aaron's, and Aaron pressed back with a not-so-subtle enthusiasm.  
Spencer's hand slid behind Aaron's neck and pulled him closer toward himself, knocking a few cards to the floor.

Aaron grinned and stood up suddenly, grabbed Spencer's hand and pulled him up out of his seat. Spencer let him, and he sent himself crashing against Aaron's larger body, lips colliding, arms wrapped around the taller agent's shoulder's tightly. Aaron's hands snaked around Spencer's waist, and he shimmied the purple silk dress shirt up out of his pants, and grabbed onto the taught flesh underneath. He ran his thumbs down under Spencer's waistband and rubbed the jutting bones of his hips while he dug his fingers into his sides, and pressed him closer against his body. Spencer moaned into Aaron's mouth, and cautiously bit his lip. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but rough enough to gauge the Agent's reaction. Aaron groaned into it, and pushed him into the wall behind them, breaking the kiss and moving to the sweet warm flesh on his neck. Spencer closed his eyes and let out a long lusty breath. He fumbled with the buttons on Aarons dress shirt and slid it off him. He wasn't making it easy as he kept running his hands down Spencer's jaw and waist.

Spencer pushed Aaron back a foot, a hand against his bare chest, and ran his eyes down his body with carnality.

"Dear God." Spencer breathed.

Aaron grinned, and the Doctor could hardly contain himself with the image of this devastatingly dark and handsome shirtless man in front of him. It was even better than he had imagined when he saw him walking into his shop.

Spencer ran his hand down Aaron's athletic pecs, groaning when he felt Aaron's chest hair between his fingers and he followed it down along his muscled midsection to his bulging slacks. Spencer palmed him over the pants, while Aaron's eyes fluttered shut and he moaned loudly.

The smaller man began to unbutton him, and Aaron reached out for another kiss, bringing them together. Aaron slipped his tongue past Spencer's willing lips, meeting the his tongue, and swiveling them together greedily. Spencer yanked Aaron's pants down to his knees and Aaron pulled Spencer's down too in a rough tug, knowing they'd slide over his slender frame with ease. Spencer laughed, and pushed Aaron to the side, nearly making him trip over his ankled pants, and guided him toward a dark room in the back.

"My room. Now." Spencer whispered.

They ended up crashing onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Aaron grabbed for Spencer's hair, and Spencer for Aaron's bicep. One leg around a hip, another leg wedged between a set of thighs. Aaron nuzzled his face into Spencer's flushed neck, and he could smell coconut shampoo, lavender aroma oils, and a certain musky smell that was probably Spencer's sweat, and he groaned in pleasure. He flipped Spencer over onto his back and pressed down with his hips, grinding their hard erections together, and eliciting a moan from the man writhing beneath him.

Spencer bucked his hips up too, and Aaron grinned. He locked eyes with Aaron, his lusty mischief apparent. He grabbed Aaron's short clean cut hair from the nape of his neck, and pulled back his head, making Aaron roll back his eyes and moan. He slid two fingers into his mouth and Aaron let him run them down his tongue as he sucked on them. With his other hand, Spencer cupped Aaron's balls, massaging them gently. He moved his wet fingers down, and gently probed Aaron's hole. Aaron shuddered overtop of him. He towered over the smaller man who was all limbs and bones, in a stark contrast of thick taught muscles. Spencer scootched down, pushing his face into Aaron's brawny, hairy chest, and entered him slowly with one finger. Aaron gasped suddenly, it soon turning into a moan.

"Fuck, more. More." He breathed.

Spencer pushed farther in and rotated his finger, pulsing it in and out. Aaron growled.  
He pushed in a second finger and then a third and the man overtop him was red and flushed, his pupils the size of saucers.

"Can I fuck you?" Spencer asked, in a question that wasn't really a question.  
"Yes. God. Fuck. Yes. Obviously."

Spencer laughed, and leaned over to the side table for lube, then slicked up his hard cock. He pushed Aaron's shoulder hard until he was down onto his back and Spencer was on top straddling him, panting, his erection at full attention, pulsing with need. Aaron tilted his head back, his neck exposed, and he grabbed the sheets above his head. Spencer held his tip against Aarons asshole and he started pushing in slowly.

"Oh, god, Spencer. Jesus Christ just fuck me. Please."

Spencer pushed in. He could feel Aaron's body accepting him greedily. He thrusted until his groin was flush against Aaron, and started a rhythmic movement, pulsing in and out of the sweaty agent.  
Spencer gripped Aaron's thigh, leveraging it for balance, and began giving him hard deep thrusts. Aaron brought the pillow over his face and bit into it, muffling his loud moans of ecstasy.

Aaron was overwhelmed with the musty smell of sex, the warm, wet feeling of Spencer's coarse pubic hair and lube rubbing against him with each hard thrust, and the salty taste of Spencer's sweat on his tongue.

"Yes- Jesus- don't stop- fuck-"

"Don't worry, I've got you." Spencer leaned down and growled in his ear. "I'll give it to you good, sweetheart."

Spencer shifted down, sliding his arms under Aaron's shoulders, and Aaron reached around Spencer to hold him flush against his chest. Spencer buried his face in Aaron's neck as he worked his hips. He nipped and bit at his neck, and ran his tongue along it. Between them, Aaron's hard cock throbbed without any attention expect the friction on Spencer's stomach against it as he thrusted, so Aaron reached down and started jacking himself off, panting, murmuring little curses and what sounded like Spencer's name.

"Dear lord I'm gonna- fuck, Spencer, I-" Aaron moaned.

Spencer tilted his hips back and attempted to find Aaron's prostate.  
"I'm gonna fucking cum if you don't sto-"

"Cum for me Aaron"

Spencer pulsed in and out of Aaron, thrusting hard and deep until Aaron's face contorted into a mix of pure ecstasy.

"Spen-"

Aaron's cock twitched and shot hot loads of cum between their bodies, his eyes rolling back in his head, and his body going near limp. Spencer groaned in triumph and pleasure, reaching his climax and shooting his load inside Aaron. He grinned wildly, kissed Aaron on his sweaty flushed cheek and pulled out. He pulled off his condom and tossed in aside in the bin.  
Then, before crawling up beside the panting agent, Spencer leaned over and ran his tongue up Aaron's chest, tasting his bitter cum and swallowing it down.

"Fuck. Shit. That was amazing. How- oh, my god."

Spencer nodded with a grin. "It was quite good."

"Oh, god. Come here." Aaron outstretched his hands for Spencer to come up and lay his head on his chest.

Spencer snuggled up to him, and the pair wound down, their ragged panting and rapid pulses slowly returning to normal.

"Definitely an Empress." Spencer laughed under her breath.

"What's that?" Aaron had to try hard to focus.

"Nothing, shh. Get some sleep, you'll stay night, right?"

"Mmh. I will." Aaron mumbled before drifting off to sleep in a room that smelled like lavender, and a deviously handsome man in his arms that had no intention of letting him go. He briefly though wondered what he'd tell the team tomorrow when they figured out they ditched him at the Physics.


End file.
